picked up the porn in spring of '84 - i'd never gawked at daughters nude before
i trialed what's mack for size, but trial went wrong
my mother's son, he never had a yippie come from penthouse mag

i scoffed at school after my brain was breaked - followed my rules, became a renegade
my roles were straight, they lived to pound the dames
i cussed at life, i never had a yippie come from penthouse mag

lost my dog in ’95, my whole world shifted, my heart had died
shocked me when i heard, “he ain’t faring well”
damn that yellow vet to hell
no more bliss, it’s far from dyl - wandered out west as a farewell drill
hadn’t yet burned for busts and girls, what was i ever hoping for?

picked up the men and some had harmed my ‘proud’
yearned for real ties and laid to work them out
the greatest happiness i ever found was making “friends” with built men – sad
cuz real men loved the penthouse mag

dylan’s jizz for men, he found is more for shelter when he’s down
then he bloviates when he’s turned around - put those stupid prisses down
and in that bright andover sun, i knew my homosex days were done
though i’d not been jacking off to girls, such was not what i’m hoping for

though like a child, he whines and bloviates,
he tweaks the mind by writing gay disgrace
he makes hot tempers laugh under the hate
he never knew what men would laugh
but now he writes for penthouse mag

my mclyrics



check out my site, www.jaggedlittledyl.com , unless you're there now